"Of course not. He's so straight and dignified."
"It just shows you what psychology can do."
"Psychology, and a series of operations, dear ladies," he thought sarcastically. "Without them I wouldn't be able to stand so nice and straight with the help of all the psychologists in this pretty little solar system of ours."
From behind a potted Martian nut-cactus came two low voices—not whispers this time. And there was several octaves difference in pitch between them. One male, one female.
The man said, "Don't be worried, sweetheart. I'll match your cooking and baking against anybody's."
There was a curious sound, between a click and a hiss. What human beings called a kiss, he thought. Between the sexes, usually an indication of affection or passion. Sometimes, especially within the ranks of the female sex, a formality behind which warfare could be waged.
The girl said tremulously, "But these women have so much experience. They've cooked and baked for years."
"Haven't you, for your own family?"
"Yes, but that isn't the same thing. I had to learn from a cookbook. And I had no one with experience to stand over me and teach me."